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#and I'm riding it now that I have time
reginrokkr · 6 months
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Today I didn't create any IC content, but in my defense— I will say that I followed my dreams in making (1) gifset of Dain that I wanted to do a while ago and I'm about to complete and post another one of the world within the Book of Revealing, as I haven't seen any yet and I think that's a space worth having something of. Which reminds me, if you peeps ever want to reblog any you're welcome! I'm planning to do more not necessarily of Dain but that I want to keep in this blog as I did with the core of Irminsul, so it's completely okay to do so as you wish ♥︎
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mobius-m-mobius · 7 months
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I can rewrite the story.
Loki 1x01 // 2x05
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divorcedfiddleford · 9 months
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and you may say to yourself: "my god! what have i done?" and you may tell yourself: "this is not my beautiful wife!" and you may tell yourself: "this is not my beautiful house!" and you may ask yourself: "well, how did i get here?"
time isn't holding up, time isn't after us, time is a pony ride! (images described in alt text)
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phantom-0-writer · 8 months
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scene 5: to win a war, fight the battles
continuation of tim's arch nemesis
Tim had done his research. He was a Bat after all. Mr. Nolan was infamous for handing out the most difficult assignment right after midterm, weighing a heaping 40% of their final grade. Physics class had never been of much interest to Tim, he found it straightforward and elementary compared to the many projects he’s committed himself to as a Bat, and member of the Young Justice League. And it just so happened to be the only classes Tim shared with one Daniel James Fenton for the semester. 
While Tim’s fellow classmates groaned at the announcement Mr. Nolan made, Tim’s knew his fate for the next three weeks was decided. He’d stayed up extra late completing his last case, and had even let his finger break so he could be off patrol without suspicion. Only his pinky of course, but enough for it to count. Despite all of Tim’s meticulous preparation for the assignment, he could only find the requirements with the rest of his class. 
Tim had considered hacking into the system and finding all of Mr.Nolan’s notes for this assignment. The reason he hadn’t done it wasn’t because he couldn’t - the school’s firewalls were a joke - but because that would mean he was admitting that the only way he could beat Daniel James Fenton was to use underhanded tactics. And that was not a defeat Tim would take. 
Tim listened closely as Mr.Nolan explained how this semester’s project would consist of him and an assigned partner creating a model using any of the physics topics they had covered throughout the semester and present it on the due date. They had till the next class to submit a formal proposal of their topic. Simple enough. 
There was just one liability in Tim’s way now: the assigned partner. Normally Tim wouldn’t have been so worried, after all this class was for the advanced students in an already competitive school. But this time was different. This time Tim had a goal. He needed to annihilate Daniel. 
“The partners for this project will be on the screen, I suggest you all get comfortable because you’ll be seeing each other a lot for the remainder of the semester.” As the projector flickered to life it dawned the document that would make or break Tim’s future. 
There were 36 students in their class, a perfect even number. Discluding Tim there were 35 other students. Daniel was simply one- one- of the 35. There was a measly 3% chance they would be paired. 
And yet. 
And yet, there it was. Printed clearly in front of Tim’s eyes. 
Timothy Drake - Daniel Fenton
In a moment of insurgence, Tim raised his hand, “Sir, I would like to change partners.” There wasn’t anyone in particular Tim would rather be paired with, but he could not have his plans mutilated by such a catastrophe. 
Mr. Nolan raised a brow at Tim, “Is there a reason in particular, Mr. Drake?” 
Tim hesitated. He had no qualms with telling Mr.Nolan the reason, but if he were to say it in front of the whole class with Daniel present he would lose the element of surprise. “No, sir.” 
Mr. Nolan leaned back onto the podium, “Is there someone else you would prefer to work with then, Mr. Drake?”
In pure humiliation, “No, sir.” 
“Well I’m glad to see I’ve made a suitable match.” Mr.Nolan concluded with finality, “Any other questions, Mr. Drake?” 
“Are we graded individually or together?” Tim clung to his last tether of hope like a lifeline. 
Unequivocally and mercilessly Mr. Nolan crushed Tim’s very being. “Together.” Tim sunk into his seat. He had become his own worst enemy. Tim ignored the confused look Daniel sent him from the other side of the classroom, saving himself the disgrace. “Any other question?” Mr.Nolan asked the class. 
There was still a way for him to crush Daniel under his steel toed Red Robin boots. Tim would simply overpower Daniel with his superior skills and intellect, and make it unquestionably clear that it was Tim who had gotten them the perfect score. A year - 5 - 10 years from now this would be the memory that woke Daniel up in cold sweat in the middle of the night. 
Psychological warfare. Tim’s specialty.
Once Mr.Nolan gave them the signal to disperse into their groups Tim met Daniel halfway between the two ends of the room where they sat. 
“Uh, Tim, right?” Daniel asked with an awkward wanna-be polite smile. 
“Yes, nice to meet you.” Tim flashed a smile he had perfected at the years of gala’s and business meetings he’d attended. Disarming, and charming. The perfect set up to sweep the enemy from under their feet. “Daniel, I believe.” A casual show of power, usually brushed off as unintentional. It was fully intentional. 
“Danny’s fine.” He corrected with what must have been an attempt at an unassuming smile. Tim knew better, Danny would be ruthless in his attempt to permanently upsurge Tim from beautifully satiating first place. “So any ideas on what we should do our assignment on?”
Danny’s coup would not be successful for Tim had come prepared. “We could reconfigure an airplane for better aerodynamics.” Tim had gone through great lengths to research and develop that about a month ago for the Bat Plane, and if he dumbed it down slightly it should pass for a civilian. 
Danny considered the idea for a moment, with the barest head nod. Victory was in Tim’s grasp now. “We could change the wingspan and nose shape of it and then widen the back fins for a more acute directional accuracy.” He offered easily. Tim blinked, that was supposed to be his line, where he would prove his superiority with the knowledge he’d already acquired. Victory, it turned out, was like a handful of sand that would, despite all efforts, spill through his fingers. “It seems easy enough.” 
“Did you have any ideas?” Tim asked testingly, crossing his arms over his chest. 
“Not really, but I thought it would be cool to try one of Tesla’s ideas. Nikola Tesla’s, I mean. The one off the top of my head is the thought camera.” Danny rambled with his hands. 
Tim may have admitted that he felt a bit inspired at the idea of mimicking and improving on one of Tesla’s ideas, if it hadn’t been proposed by Danny. “The thought camera?” Tim echoed incredulously, formulating the perfect eyebrow raise to show his distaste. 
Danny seemed undeterred, and was instead studying the rubric Mr.Nolan had left open on the board. “Yeah, I’m not a huge fan of that one either,” He said offhandedly, “I was just spitballing.” 
This would’ve been the perfect opening for Tim to intercede with the perfect idea. As a Bat, Tim of all people should know the importance of always being ready and well informed of any situation that may arise. Yet here he was, unprepared. Resiliently, Tim pulled out his phone and searched up potential suggestions. Danny peaked over to look as well. 
“The wireless energy transmitter seems like a good idea. If we proportionally scale it down we could have a fully functioning model.” Tim declared victoriously to his partner, who couldn't help but be on board with his amazing idea. 
Tim had already won the first battle, and the war would soon be over with Tim’s overwhelming conqueror of the first place position. 
Bouncing off of Tim’s original idea, the team had already procured a rough sketch of their model, and had designated a day to gather their supplies. 
--
Howard watched as his student’s chattering meshed into one indistinguishable sound. Howard through his past researching with other professionals in varying stages of their career, and teaching college students of various majors and life goals had become astute as discerning a person’s potential. He was aware his current students, now only between the ages of fifteen and nineteen, would not appreciate his sentiment on grading them on a scale of what he believed their personal best to be. Leading to his infamous profile through the halls of Gotham Academy.
Over his cumulative professional careers there was perhaps only a handful that Howard predicted to hold greatness. His visions always came to fruition as the sapling students of science and research once under his care, blossomed into leaders in their fields with headlining research papers under their name. And when Howard did find himself in the possessions of those saplings he made sure to nurture their growth as much as he could.
It just so happened this year Howard found himself with two. 
There was one who Howard had heard whispers of in the teacher’s lounge. Tim Drake always sat in class with a bored castover look, ready with the perfect answer when tested as if he were the one with the PhD. Tim completed all his assignments with a stern perfection, always unchallenged with the material no matter how difficult his peers seemed to find it. 
It only was Danny Fenton’s second year attending the Academy, and there were only a few that knew him as a student, but they were not stingy with their praises. In the first week of class Howard had found him unassuming, scribbling what Howard had assumed to be notes like his peers throughout class. He was swiftly corrected when Danny came to him, after class one day, frazzled over something in his book. Howard, always ready to help a student, welcomed him graciously. In the book Howard did not find scribbled notes of inertia and energy, but a diagram- more accurately a blueprint- of an archimedes engine applied for a re-designed drag car. 
Howard watched the first spark of intrigue be kindled between the two with deep satisfaction.
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romance-rambles · 2 months
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concept: in an alternate universe where the three princes arrive in rhodolite after emma leaves, five years after chevalier's coronation, silvio ricci—"mr. secretly a caring brother"—decides to take a stroll around the capital to clear his mind.
he's been trying to find valerio for ages, and he'd briefly thought that maybe his brother is still in rhodolite, but for whatever reason, he can't seem to get any leads. after making the questionable decision to drink, he ends up wandering into the bustling markets of the city.
a pair of brothers catches his gaze. the older one is buying the younger one a treat—and really, they can't be too old. silvio has had little interaction with kids, but he'd guess them to be around the early teens. and it makes him think of how he was never able to do anything like that for valerio.
naturally, in the middle of cursing his brother out, he happens to hear a vaguely familiar voice professing his love for some woman named emma. he has to rub his eyes to make sure he's seeing things right and—
yup, blonde hair, blue eyes. an earring. the face of a man he loathes, though not as much as his mother.
and in front of his kneeling self—
a clearly pregnant woman who looks on, with amusement glittering in her brown eyes as she gracefully accepts the offered rose. silvio thinks he might be going insane.
"emma" then proceeds to pull him up and the lady selling flowers giggles about how wonderful it is that they're so in love. the guy from the stall next door hollers about how, since it's rio, it's to be expected.
they leave and silvio does not follow them.
what silvio does do is go back to his room in the castle and punch the wall, unable to figure out how he should feel about the fact that valerio is married with a kid on the way. one thing's for sure though:
emidio must not know.
so, silvio packs up and leaves for benitoite, and in about two years, even those in rhodolite whisper about how the second prince attempted to commit treason—and admitted, in a fit of rage, that he was the one who sent valerio to die.
(for this, the king begrudgingly thanks silvio and offers to make him king. but silvio pretends he hasn't already found valerio and vows to find him.)
then, silvio returns to rhodolite.
and finds out that the child valerio's wife was carrying was their second child, after a brat who happens to be the splitting image of valerio overhears asking about "rio" and "emma".
this kid is nothing less than a blabbermouth. within thirty minutes, silvio's aware of his history and "rio"'s too. he knows that valerio's second born is a girl, that he's disappointed that neither of his two children look like his wife, and that they'll probably not stop at two kids. he knows that the kid's name is elliott, that he's named to match the first letter of his mom's name—it's the same for his sister, who is named rhys, after his dad.
and yet, despite the fact that being armed with this seemingly useless knowledge comorts him, he's too much of a coward to try and approach valerio. after all, emidio's dead. valerio seems happier than he ever was in the benitoite's court. isn't it selfish to drag valerio back solely for silvio's pride?
(a part of him is also jealous of elliot's long list of uncles, who he suspects to be rhodolite's princes—most frequent are nokto, yves, leon, clavis, and luke. sometimes, jin and licht. chevalier, surprisingly, does ask after him and rhys, but never visits. sariel keeps tabs on them, just in case)
so he runs before his sister-in-law arrives to take elliot home.
and rinse and repeat. days bleed into weeks and he's not keen about letting them bleed into months, even if he views elliott as a "second chance."
but he doesn't have to.
valerio comes to him.
apparently, he's seen silvio hanging around his son. his wife is delighted that elliott's made a friend, even if he is older than she'd hoped for, and also a bit concerned about silvio's identity, so she wanted to invite him to dinner.
unfortunately, elliott told rio about how silvio once told him to cherish and protect his sister. he said that he couldn't protect his brother from getting hurt, and that he hopes valerio is happy.
the names are what tipped rio off.
there was other identifying information too, but rio already had his memories. the names were all he needed.
you see, he'd started having an inkling of his identity when emma was belle. he'd been pouring over some texts about benitoite and he thought some of it felt strangely familiar. but he kept those thoughts hidden because he was afraid of letting emma know. it was when emidio was arrested that his memoried fully started coming back.
[we now take a brief intermission to talk about how rio married the love of his life:
emma, whilst fretting over her uncontrollable feelings, is looking at the "engagement ring". rio comes in, and for a moment, they simply stare at each other.
then rio correctly guesses that this is something he had on him before. emma confides in him that she thinks it's an engagement ring, which causes rio to realize why she would push him away.
he tells her that he has no interest in returning home. he wanted to die, after all. it's likely nothing was waiting for him. and, if it is an engagement ring, he probably bought it because he knew he'd be meeting the love of his life soon (this makes her hit him on the shoulder). rio thinks he likely wasn't engaged at all.
this causes emma to decide that she wants to be selfish, even if it means living with that kind of guilt.
the rest is history.]
rio: "i really don't want you to meet emma...what if you fall in love with her? she's so pretty, i can see it happening."
silvio: "huh? why would—"
rio: "...but i need someone to testify that i wasn't engaged before i lost my memories. i didn't have a lover either. my wife's been holding onto this misconception, so i want to clear it up immediately."
silvio takes it for the olive branch it is. everyone and their grandmothers know that he's been searching for valerio. it's really no surprise that rio would realize his intentions.
the next night, he joins rio and his family for dinner. silvio brings flowers for emma and gifts for each of the munchkins, and for rio, he shoves a bottle of wine at him. his reddened ears don't have the luxury of returning to normal because elliott starts pointing out how his ears are super red. they have an enjoyable dinner, after which emma reintroduces herself as his sister-in-law and they confirm that they'll hold off on telling elliott, like silvio wants them to.
silvio is a coward though, so he tells elliott on literally the last day of his stay in rhodolite. elliott makes him promise to come back soon, and rio and emma, who are there to pick elliott up, reveal that they might go visit silvio instead.
[this is because someone manages to spill silvio's secret to the king. which means rio would need to establish himself to better protect his family.]
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egophiliac · 4 months
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so have you heard about the ride kamens app game? seems like it's gonna be a twisted wonderland like game with all the riders being hot anime guys now, and it's also gonna be written by yuya takahashi and produced by naomi takebe (apparently it was in development before geats), with designs by the person who did sk8 the infinity, so take that for what you will
have you ever gotten the feeling that a piece of media came into existence just to appeal to you specifically, or
(brb preregistering immediately)
(as far as I can tell you play as an agent who maintains a secret superhero base for riders in the basement of the rider-themed cafe that you run with your butler, and there's some other plot stuff going on but honestly I'm way past sold at this point, this sounds amazing)
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jtl-fics · 1 year
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Fluent Freshman - Part 18
PREVIOUS
Weirdly enough the only thing that FF can think of as they head down the stairs is the first Saw movie.
That one happened IN a bathroom right? He kind of watched all of them in a row to prepare himself for whatever Andrew might decide to do to him. But he’s near positive that one happened in a bathroom. It was derelict and he didn’t think it really had running water (or did it? Didn’t the guy wake up in a half-full tub? His memory is hazy in his bathroom related desperation and may be trying to protect him from thinking about water).
All leading to the main thought going through his head as he slowly headed down the narrow stairway to his death.
Would Andrew let him use the facilities before he’s handcuffed to a pipe?
The worst part about all of this is that he is not sure if he needs to take a dump or if he just needs to fart, he knows he has to take a piss. He’s read that when you die your body will relax and it’ll all just flow out of you and Nicky gave him these pants so he feels bad but he also does not want to face his death without pants. If he needs to take a shit then they’re definitely going to be absolutely ruined, if it’s a fart well…Andrew can’t kill him any further? He can mutilate his corpse a little but FF won’t be around to experience it.
No matter what he’s definitely going to piss himself. He had way too much water at Sweeties trying to consume the spicy ice cream.
You may be wondering why FF has not run away from his predicament and is walking down these steps without protest or comment or plea for his life.
First of all he is pretty sure that if he makes any sudden movements he will ruin these pants that Nicky bought for him. Second of all Andrew had already told him once that he wouldn’t accept any pleading for mercy he still remembers how he asked Andrew, “Please give me back my pen?” and Andrew had shot him a look that had his stomach cramp and his fingers itch for the bottle sweet pink relief in his backpack.
“I don’t like that word, don’t use it around me.” He said.
FF ever the pragmatic sort, “Which one?” He had asked because he had said a few, “I don’t want there to be a misunderstanding.” He followed up with when Andrew glowered at him only for the glare’s intensity to increase 10 fold.
“Don’t use the first word of your first statement or the last word of your second.” Andrew grit out and got up to leave without a word.
Message received loud and clear Andrew did NOT like words ‘Please’ or ‘Misunderstanding’.
So FF knows that any pleading for mercy would ABSOLUTELY result in Andrew not letting him take a bathroom break before him and Captain Neil make destroying him into a couple activity. The fact that Captain Neil is here is a bit of a shock but maybe Captain Neil has finally gotten the other Freshman Dealer up to snuff.
Maybe Kevin really did want to dissect him to figure out how Strikers keep passing straight to him?
They reach the door at the bottom of the stairs.
Ah, time to face the music.
At least he’d texted Gran that he was going to die when they had gotten into the club and the bathroom had not made itself readily apparent. Sure it was about his current ‘gotta piss / gotta shit’ situation but he’d been wise to keep his cause of death vague in that text.
The door opens and…
This is the NICEST torture chamber FF has EVER seen. (And after his desperation watch of all the Saw movies he has seen quite a FEW)
“Minyard, Josten, and Guest. Table 6 is yours.” A voice comes from the side and when he looks over there’s a man in quite a nice uniform standing behind a soft-lit bar polishing a glass looking every bit like a bar tender at those high-end places you see in movies. He looks around a bit more and there are some other people down here. It’s not quiet per se but it is a comfortable level of noise in comparison to the IQ dropping noise upstairs.
“C’mon Smith.” Andrew juts his chin towards a table in the back.
FF follows but continues to try and fit this nice little room into his world view.
Do these people watch other people get tortured to death for fun on a Friday night? Unlikely considering the upholstery on the booths and chairs looked like it’d stain if blood got on it. Was this perhaps a trafficking location where Andrew would sell off his organs to the highest bidder? He looked at the other patrons who seemed a bit higher class than the general club scene upstairs but not like they had the money to buy one of his kidneys. Maybe-
“Do not tell Nicky about this place, ever.” Andrew says as they slide into the booth. FF nods but can’t help but tilt his head slightly in an unspoken question, “He would absolutely tell any and everyone about it. Eden’s wants to keep this place a secret from the general public.” Andrew explains.
“Nicky currently thinks that there’s a straight swingers club down here.” Captain Neil says with a huff of laughter.
“Eden’s is cool, even though there’s some sick shit in the basement.” Floats through his head again.
What the fuck was a swinger?
His fingers itch for his phone but he’s currently talking with Andrew and Captain Neil so that’d be rude but they’re talking to him like he absolutely knows what a swinger is and he DOES NOT.
“It’s quieter down here. Figured you’d prefer it.” Andrew says as he gets up and heads towards the bar down here where the bartender was aggressively cutting ice chunks.
He and Captain Neil sit in silence for a few seconds before Captain Neil offers him a slight smile, “I know you’d rather be with your grandma and you and Andrew prefer not to say things out loud but we’ve really liked hanging out with you.” Captain Neil says.
????????????????????????????????????????????????
That’s such a nice thing to say to someone.
Especially someone like FF.
Especially especially when they’re planning on killing him?
He hopes his confusion stays off his face as he nods once. “It’s been fun.” It’s not even really a lie. Thanksgiving yesterday had been nice and loud and FF had missed the chaos of a Family Dinner more than he had ever realized. The car ride had been…a time but once he’d asked Andrew to either keep his eyes on the road or let him out Andrew’s hands had stayed at 10 and 2 and the ride had been smooth. Aaron and Nicky’s weight against him had been nice too, a warm memory before he developed a possible life long aversion to whipped cream. He’d gotten to go Black Friday shopping and Captain Neil even helped carry it home for him. Baking bad been nice even if the stress of doing it with his life on the line was less so. The subsequent nap and day spent doing normal college guy things had been…it’d all been nice.
It’s starting to feel like….
“Drink this.” Andrew puts a drink down in front of him.
No Andrew definitely wants his bladder to burst.
“What is it?” He asks instead looking at the creamy looking drink with suspicion.
Andrew rolls his eyes as he hands Neil a fruity looking drink as he sits with what is a few fingers of scotch. “It’s virgin.” Andrew says not answering the question at all and must pick up that FF won’t be drinking it until he gets the full answer because he continues after a moment, “It’s like a Pina Colada but with bananas instead.” Andrew answers.
It’s not that FF hates banana but why in the world would Andrew grab him this? Was it just one of the few virgins options on this place’s fancy menu or-
“Bananas will help get your stomach acid back down.” Andrew says, “Since you’re an idiot and ate that mango ice cream just because you wanted to impress that girl.” He rolls his eyes.
“Impress that girl?” There weren’t any girls at the table and how in the world would him eating that god-forsaken spicy ice cream impress anyone other than Betsy. Even Betsy would only be impressed by the depths he was willing to reach just to avoid what he perceives as an awkward social situation.
“The waitress.” Neil reminds him as if that cleared anything up.
“Yeah,” he says as if he has understood the conversation but he has not. “It was spicy mango.” He says because maybe if he keeps the conversation going he’ll get enough context clues to understand what might be his last conversation.
Andrew let out a huff of laughter and pushed FF’s drink closer to him, “Drink your fancy Banana smoothie Casanova.” He says.
No closer to understanding the conversation he accepts that it might be something that only becomes clear after he sheds his mortal coil and is no longer given a -10 INT debuff by his full bladder and revolting stomach.
He takes a sip.
Oh that’s actually pretty good.
It feels like he can feel it sizzling in his stomach and soothing the discomfort there. Maybe he should look into Banana smoothies as a replacement for what Abby has called a ‘concerning co-dependence’ in regards to Pepto Bismol. No one can put him on a medical watch if it’s just banana smoothies he’s chugging down like they’re going out of style.
“Thanks,” he says, “that was good.” He admits before reaching into his jacket and moving past the Megamind toy and grabbing his wallet. “What do I owe you for that?” He asks.
“We’re even.” Andrew waves away the money.
“You bought the stuff for breakfast, those brownies, and the pie tomorrow.” Neil says and FF blinks surprised to hear that they were talking about the pie he didn’t think he was going to get the chance to make.
“You don’t need to buy a spot with us.” Andrew says and FF leans back slightly at the intensity on Andrew’s face as he says it. “I invited you here because I wanted to. The brownies were good but if you don’t feel like making the pie tomorrow? It’s not like I’m going to drive you back to Palmetto and leave you on Abby’s doorstep.” He says.
FF feels gears start to turn in his head.
“It’s good pie.” He hears himself say.
“I didn’t even know about the pie when I invited you.” Andrew says and…
Andrew and FF sit in silence but honestly it’s not like Andrew’s sharpening his knives. The two of them mostly just do their own work or read. FF has been getting his German literacy up to snuff so that he can read the language when he goes there to visit Nicky’s fiance next year. He likes how serious Andrew is about learning it so that he doesn’t have to ask Captain Neil a thousand questions and it’d be nice if Andrew wasn’t obviously planning on murdering him.
Andrew brings dried apples and sends Captain Neil along with probiotic yogurts to their meetings. Both of those things tend to soothe his stomach and the yogurt that had been unflavored before was now vanilla which he liked a fair bit. It would have been a really nice gesture if it wasn’t for the fact that Andrew was making fun of his tummy troubles.
Andrew will put his foot down in practice sometimes when Kevin is getting too demanding wanting to know exactly how FF intercepted his passes to Neil. Kevin always backs off and Andrew will do the same when Jack starts to get a little too personal in his attacks at FF or when Sheena decides she’s going to be a bitch. It’d be nice if it wasn’t Andrew staking his claim that he was the one who was going to make FF’s life miserable.
Andrew drove FF around for an hour after Greg had shown up. He found out later from one of his friends that Andrew had threatened Greg after he had power walked away into the building. Andrew had driven him around and had only started heading towards the tower when FF had relaxed. It would have been nice if Andrew wasn’t trying to lure him into a false sense of security.
Andrew had invited him to his Family’s house over Thanksgiving when the bad storm had ruined his Thanksgiving plans. Andrew had threatened Jack to stop him from eating his Grandma’s pie and complaining about it. Andrew had stopped messing around with Captain Neil when FF had made it clear he was uncomfortable being in a car where the driver wasn’t paying attention to the road. Andrew had twice made him go to bed in the last couple hours.
It’d be nice if…
“We’ve really liked hanging out with you” Captain Neil had said.
Andrew was just trying to be nice.
Embarrassment rolls over him like a wave but FF has many years of pretending like he’s not going to die from embarrassment, “Thanks for inviting me. I’ll still probably make the pie tomorrow.” He offers.
Andrew’s eyes change slightly and FF is under the impression that he’s happy to hear that.
“Just enjoy your drink Smith.” Andrew says.
FF does go back to sipping his drink and letting more and more memories of things Andrew had done come to him and lets his embarrassment grow.
He finishes his drink and only then realizes that he is a code red in terms of bladder capacity. The new knowledge that this is not a torture chamber but in fact yet another overture of friendship from Andrew paired with his desperation finally loosens the question from his mouth, “Where’s the bathroom here?” He asks.
“There isn’t one downstairs but just head up stairs and hug the wall to the left.” Captain Neil answers.
“Bring your phone. If Frank doesn’t recognize you to let you back in.” Andrew reminds him.
FF nods and heads out of the club and up the stairs.
He might be doing a bit of a potty dance so he forces himself to become unnoticeable because he does not need cool people at a cool club to see him about to piss himself. Once he enters into a stealth mode that the United States Military would like to talk to him about he hugs the wall and nearly cries tears of relief when he sees a door labelled MEN.
He doesn’t think about the possibility of letting up on stealth mode because he is sure that he is about to make a face that he does NOT want any human being to see when he unzips his pants and starts to take the world’s most life-affirming piss on the planet.
As his bladder empties his brain is able to process the understanding that he had come to down in the basement he had thought would be his final resting place.
Andrew has been trying to be nice (and succeeding it was all so nice! He feels like an asshole! He is an asshole! Gran always told him that assuming makes an Ass out of U and Me. He had just thought it was funny grandma humor not valuable life advice!)
The night wasn’t going to end with Andrew’s knife in his stomach, it was probably just going to end with Nicky puking on his shoes (which is fine because these are the shoes Nicky was letting him borrow for the club anyways, they’re his shoes to puke onto.)
A secondary relief fills his system. His stomach, soothed by the Banana smoothie and now this, feels like it might actually let him live through the night.
While FF was distracted with a piss that would have made any number of cult leaders jealous with the number of divine revelations he was experiencing he failed to notice a second man enter the bathroom.
There was a reason that FF always ALWAYS became noticeable when he was at a urinal and the man who came to the urinal right next to him was showcasing that VERY reason.
He was trapped here for at least ten more seconds and he could hear the man grumbling distractedly but didn’t really pay it too much attention until…
“Fucking Wesninski Brat.” He grumbled under his breath.
Oh god dammit.
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NEXT
MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
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Are you still active on tumblr?
YES I am!! Sorry friends for dropping off the face of the earth, I got a job and I had to move and it was a lot. But I am less stressed now and I hope I can get back to posting more regularly!! I really missed it (ノ^ヮ^)ノ*:・゚✧
I will never leave tumblr because there is no other place on the internet where I can tell people that 80% of the time when I try to introduce myself to someone in the office that I haven’t met yet I get so focused on smiling and holding eye contact that I forget the part where I actually have to introduce myself (°□°)
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#HELLO FRIENDS#how are you!! I missed you! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ#I hope you all had a good summer!!#mine was very nice even though there was a lot of stress and new things happening#suddenly there were so many adult things in my life that at the end of the day I just sat on the couch and watched decorating shows#I love decorating shows but today they showed this decorating competition and one woman had to decorate her whole bedroom coral#and then I knew it was time to go back#friends I've done so many new things the past few weeks!! I've really underestimated what this new chapter of my life would be like#it's very nice and I'm glad but I've never thought about things like insurance and taxes and parallel parking before#and I'm in a new apartment and everything!! ✧⁺⸜(●′▾‵●)⸝⁺✧#it is a very good apartment but the landlord left us so many of their chairs#this does not sound like a problem but we also owned chairs before#so our chair number is doubled now#the kitchen is full of chairs the balcony is full of chairs#I've hidden two chairs behind the TV but I can still see their chair heads and then I feel bad because they do not deserve this#they should be roaming free#also rode a BIKE#they say you never forget how to ride a bike#but my secret is that I never really knew how to ride one#in Germany all students have to do a bicyle test in fourth grade and I was so bad that my teacher asked me#afterwards if I had tried to confuse the other students#I just said 'uh yes' and then he said ok and I passed with the worst bicyle grade of the whole school#I hade made 8 bicyle mistakes#I hope you're doing well friends!! see you soon!!#have a nice day :)
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fisheito · 3 months
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i told myself that yakuei only had one position then i proved myself (sorta) wrong
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my fave face here:
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#technically... if they were boinking in outer space... a lot of these would be the same position#makes a rotate-y gesture with my fingers#what is yakumo's kabedon if not a vertical missionary#so i've half proven myself right AND wrong! i'm net neutral in outer space broskis!!!!!#zizz-asdf if ur reading these tags i'll have u know that u inspired me to Do the Research1#like. 5 garu riding eiden? no. it can't be. does yaku do one specific thing with eiden 5 times? *tries to write it down*#i can't quite... what's the word for that position...uhhhh#ah forget it i'll just draw it out#<- that was the process of creating this. collage? 😆#THE MATRIX OF YAKUEI BOINKINg POSITIONS (under construction)#when u about to be semi-normal and make a spreadsheet but ur sexcabulary is stunted so you resort to visuals instead#legit opening up every intimacy room and skipping thru sections to get as complete a picture as possible#wondering... where are yaku's feet planted in this one. (skips to 8minute mark)#ah! there they are. theyre not supporting his weight in this one *draws it*#while drawing crimson phantom room 2 my brow was furrowed and i was mentally narrating#[and this one i affectionately call.. rectal exam - professional misconduct Grounds for Termination)]#surprised they str8 up havent done classicdoggstyle yet. is it because he's a snake? garu should teach him#also surprised that there's been no Light SSR for yaku yet. come on!! Light mode on the double!#uhhh i think the only repeated positions were freestanding (choco liqueur r2 and dark nova r2)#and standing AGAINST! THE! WALL! (choco liqueur r5 {interior} and shadow lineage r5 {cave})#wait. *throws papers around* i swear they did missionary more than once. was it only ocean breeze???#i know with the intimacy rooms they gotta modify the positions into certain angles to make it...look...better#but seriously? only one missionary out of the lot of them? despite the aesthetic tweaks??? how can that ........#*tosses more papers around with increasing befuddlement* WHERE IS MY PURE 100% VANILLA BEAN ICE CREAM#sighs as all the papers lie scattered on the ground#dude... i don't know anymore..... this is beyond my scope#now that i see how evenly spread out the positions are...#i BET the devs have SOME SORTA CHART tracking yaku's positions. now THAT'S a funky office corkboard!#yakuei#nu carnival eiden
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moe-broey · 11 months
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Technically this is the second part to something else but I feel bad the og sketch still gets notes every now and again LMFAOO so as I'm in between projects. I have some ideas for Alcryst Forging Bonds whenever he's added to FEH 👁️👁️
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dyne-osaur · 1 year
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hello rtc fandom. take my offering(s) <33 it's the broadway version bc that's the only version i've seen 😍
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+ bonus penny
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bakageta · 29 days
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The last one: what have they been putting off forever, even though it would take ten minutes?
Me: writing this fic.... just kidding it took longer than ten minutes 😅
The little infirmary bed in Ted Kord’s secret hidden basement was as enclosed and cluttered as everything else Kard had hidden away in his mansion. It reminded Jaime of a bunk bed an elementary school friend had, only much more solid. Thanks to the scarab, Jaime could see every scratch and dent and read every dusty, scribbled note, even if he couldn’t understand exactly what they meant. He was covered in sensors which connected to monitors which recorded data from him and Khaji and, if he didn’t focus on the fact that he could move his arms and legs, Jaime would be right back in Victoria’s lab.
He took a deep breath in, ignored the squirming feeling in his mouth and how many new teeth he had and the clenching of legs against his spine and all the weird aches that had accumulated over the past couple of weeks–almost as bad as the days after all this stuff had started when Khaji was– and exhaled.
This couldn’t keep happening. Jaime couldn’t keep putting off asking Khaji what was happening to him. The Scarab would tell him, he knew that like he knew his name. Hell, Jaime wasn’t even sure he knew why he kept putting it off. 
Or at least, he didn’t want to think about why he kept putting it off.
“Khaji Da.” He tried to say its full name with authority, like his mother did to him and Milla when she’d caught them in something. Hopefully the scarab would pick up the context.
Yes, Jaime? Khaji’s voice in his head was smooth like it wasn't aware of his churning thoughts. 
“What–” his voice broke for a moment as something happened in his throat. It wasn't on purpose,  just another inconvenient part of whatever was happening Jaime hoped. He coughed and cleared his throat. “What’s happening to me, Khaji?”
Optimization of the host body. 
“You've said that before.” Jaime’s tone was flat. Disappointed. “But I need to know. What's happening? Is something wrong? Are you doing this? Why?”
Was Khaji telling him the whole truth? Would it?
My programming was damaged in transit.
“What?”
I am one of many scarab units created by the Reach to discover, infiltrate, and exploit alien worlds.
Khaji was telling the truth. Jaime knew it in the same instinctive way he knew  how to speak to Khaji, how to move in the armor, how to breathe. He wasn’t surprised, even though he should have been, as Khaji recited the facts of its creation.
The goals of the Reach are incompatible with your goals. The damage done to my programming and the repairs I made based off of your neurology allow me to disobey, but I am still vulnerable to root commands.
At the top of Jaime’s spine, Khaji clutched its legs around his vertebra and his hand twitched in a sympathetic mirroring grasp he had no input in.
I do not wish to cause fear, but if I am forced to shut down I do not want you to be vulnerable. 
Jaime remembered how Khaji’s inert shell had felt around him in Victoria's secret base. How it had been cold. How it had felt like his skin was pulling away from his carapace. He wasn’t sure which one of them had pulled up that memory from the depths where he'd buried it.
“Okay. I get it.” Because how could he not? Jaime had lived through that just as much as Khaji had. “I get it.”
He sighed. Clenched his eyes shut. Tried to reconcile the part of him that accepted everything Khaji said implicitly with the part that should have been afraid. The part that didn’t seem to exist. Jaime was upset. But only because he somehow wasn’t surprised. He was angry. But only because he wasn’t told what was going on.
Jaime opened his eyes and looked at the equipment in the infirmary, backlit by standby lighting. Jenny had done basic testing before telling him to try to settle down, to stay until she figured out what was happening. He missed his family suddenly. Wanted them here, even if they’d be loud and annoying. He wanted to be unaware. Distracted.
He couldn’t.
“Why doesn’t this bother me, Khaji?”
Khaji didn’t answer at first, compiling data, formatting it so he’d understand. Jaime knew what it was doing in the same way he knew everything else. When Khaji finally responded, it wasn’t with words.
It was simple. A Scarab and its host were a single unit. Anything one knew, so did the other. Even if Jaime wasn’t aware of what was happening; he knew. It was like proprioception but for information. If Jaime wanted to know something, then he just needed to look.
He didn’t want to look. Not now at least.
@wazzappp I still sometimes work on this fic...
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mobius-m-mobius · 7 months
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I cannot believe that season. truly just. there was not a single episode I didn't sit down to without a genuine conviction that *this* would be the episode where they spit all over everything I loved about the show. I braced constantly throughout the episodes as they kept setting themselves up for Very Stupid story choices only to pull the rug and go "HAHA surprise, idiot!!! We've given you exactly what you wanted <3". until the final episode which was NOT what I wanted and also exponentially better storytelling and character development than any of the ideal scenarios I'd constructed.
something deeply meta about it all. truly a chaos season for the chaos god, where the most chaotic, unexpected, transformative thing they can do is to be good.
Spent the day processing my love for this season only to have your message sum my thoughts and feelings up perfectly, thank you so very much for sending it 💖
Same as you, not for a second did I go in truly expecting anything from s2. Owen and Mobius have my heart, always will, so primarily the show was a vehicle to provide whatever crumbs of his scenes and chemistry with Tom I could get and with the start of every episode I braced for the moment that would get ruined in some way, only to be continually hit with everything I've ever wanted in a show or pairing right up until the finale. Which, while not what I would've chosen, was beautifully crafted and an almost Shakespearean tragic romance that will haunt me for the rest of my days and is still infinitely better than the nightmare scenarios I'd been floating around in my mind so at least there's that and it's impossible not to be thankful for eps 1-5 for giving content anyone could dream of and more 😅
Besides the obvious ending, I'm mostly crushed our Loki and Mobius didn't get a proper goodbye but honestly believe Loki decided to seek out s1 Mobius instead knowing s2 Mobius loved him too much to ever let his sacrifice happen and it would've been too much to bear, so having made his mind up already he at least tried to visit a version most likely to validate his choice. Just wish the Mobius now waiting until the end of time had at least a similar opportunity, but I'm just thankful he didn't lose his memories and could make his own decision that his faith in Loki is what's carried him before and will continue to do so now.
The flip of their characterization from order or chaos is exactly what has me convinced Lokius will reunite because how can they not with such an open ended future?? Even in separation they revolve around each other and they're the only ones left wanting. Mobius and his life are in ruins with nothing but the passage of time and possibility of some spent with Loki ahead while Loki's surely going to find a way to meet halfway when the choice of order has not only made him potentially the most powerful being in existence but one who spends eternity looking at the only person who ever saw him back.
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going off of what dwreader and ghostfoolish have been saying better than i can:
why do people think louis will still be a believable victim and it won't be racist if the show just has armand mess with louis's memories regarding 1x05 and how claudia died, and also be controlling him throughout the entire interview/relationship? like not only does it paint victims of abuse as unreliable and unstable, therefore not be trusted with anything*, but it also, just, shifts most if not all the blame from a white man to a poc? we've asking this the entire time, but they still don't have an answer for that.
*like statistically speaking victims of abuses' memories might be muddled/repressed from the trauma, so even though they know the abuse happened, people will use the fact that they might not be able to describe an entire fight in specific detail, or got some dates mixed up, or did not speak up sooner, to paint them as mentally ill liars, or even abusers themselves. which is why i think giving louis false memories in 1x05 is still victim blaming in a way, because it encourages the trend of victims not being believed.
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pallanophblargh · 9 months
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Post-vacation clarity in the form of... word vomit? Sure!
First: so very lucky. So very fortunate. Grateful. That I FINALLY got to cross off a bucket-list vacation and see some massive trees and beautiful mountains. Everything I could have imagined! And it's definitely worthy of a re-visit, once time has passed and I've recovered financially.
Second: I'm so amused that my slight trepidation regarding the potential for "culture shock" was unwarranted. See, if you're a rather unsocial midwesterner schooled in the ways of "Minnesota Nice" aka Advanced Passive Aggression, you might be worried about venturing into more direct/easygoing/outgoing cultures. I was delighted to take a vacation from blatant pettiness and passive aggression during my time out west. And honestly? I miss it. San Francisco was pretty agreeable, all things considered, and I will make a point to revisit.
Third: I loved taking the train! And at the same time, I'm heartbroken for the way passenger trains have to operate in this shithole country. Please. I just want so many trains. At all hours, in every direction. And, if it's NOT TOO MUCH TROUBLE, for assholes to not drag enormous tractor tires onto the tracks. (Fuck you, Utah.)
In conclusion: I'm so happy I went, and now I have to go through my photos while I reluctantly pick up where I left off here. And yes, California, if I can, I absolutely will be back. Thanks for having us.
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befuddledcinnamonroll · 8 months
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Ok, I'm going to admit defeat in most of my Saifah theories. He's just kinda dumb. But sweet. And presumably a little bit horny.
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Finally, some proper smooches!
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My eternal love to the costumer who put this character in this shirt:
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Ah, translators, never change.
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